Some Days are Like This
by SGAFan
Summary: It's a routine offworld mission for Sheppard and his team. Some days, that's all you need for something to go wrong... warning: contains Shep whump!
1. Chapter 1

Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard emerged from the Stargate and stopped, taking a moment to inhale the fresh, damp air around him. He walked away from the gate and down two worn, stone stairs before stopping in the short grass, the light dew dampening his pant legs. He looked around as the rest of his team emerged. A large, grassy field greeted his gaze, with tall coniferous trees surrounding them. He couldn't see the Pegasus equivalent of a bird that made the odd chirping whistle sound that found his ears, but somehow he took comfort from it. The little creature seemed unworried about anything lurking in the bushes, so John followed suit.

John glanced at Ronon who stopped next to him. "Which way?"

Ronon pointed to a narrow trail that led into the woods. "There. Last time I was here I found a small village not far from here. Didn't stay long though."

John nodded absently, recognizing the subtle meaning of Ronon's words. The Wraith transmitter he'd carried for seven years had prevented him from staying in one place too long. John looked over at Rodney. "Anything?"

Rodney grunted. "Lots of animals, but no human life signs yet."

John walked forward. "Okay then. I'm on point, Ronon take the six. McKay watch for human life signs.

"I have never been here," Teyla remarked quietly as she followed behind Rodney.

"I'm not surprised," Rodney muttered. "Tell me again why we're here?" He added annoyingly.

John glanced over his shoulder. "Just bein' neighborly."

"We're on the other side of the galaxy from Atlantis. Hardly neighbors!" Rodney retorted.

"It is all irrelevant with the Stargate," Teyla commented quietly.

"Huh," Rodney grunted, his tone decidedly disagreeing.

John tuned out Rodney and relished the fresh, clean air. He followed the path as it meandered its way through the trees as his thoughts touched on the imposing Runner that followed at the back of his team. Ronon hadn't been around long, but already had proven himself as a good choice for John's team. A gifted fighter and expert marksman, Ronon was a man of few words, but one John was getting used to having at his back. "Did you have any contact with the locals at all, Ronon?" John ventured.

"No."

John smiled slightly at Ronon's abrupt answer. At first, he'd never been sure if the big ex- runner was mad or not, but after a while John came to realize that it was just the way he was; and with McKay around, John really didn't need another chatterbox anyway.

"Just once," Rodney groused, "I'd like to pick a warm sunshiny planet."

"Like M26-445?" John smiled mischievously. He could feel Rodney's icy stare on his back.

"Oh you're hilarious. Conditions that rival the Sahara Desert aren't what I had in mind!"

"But, it was warm and sunny," John replied, still smiling.

"Whatever!" Rodney fell silent.

John rounded a bend in the trail and stopped. "Well, that's a problem." His gaze fixed on a large landslide that completely blocked the path. His gaze narrowed. "Not sure I want to try climbing over that and risk anyone sinking in it." He took the positive sounding grunt coming from Ronon's direction to be an affirmation of his statement as he walked to the edge of the path and peered into the trees. "We could go around I suppose..."

"Great, slogging through wet trees," Rodney muttered.

"We could leave you here, by yourself, McKay," Ronon commented quietly, "lots of animals around, probably harmless."

Rodney sighed loudly. "Right. Lead the way, Colonel."

John smiled as he pushed aside a heavy bush with his P-90 and ventured into the woods. Wet branches brushed across his face and body as he worked his way through the underbrush. "We shouldn't have to go far, just circle far enough to get around the landslide..." John's voice trailed off as took two more steps and the ground under his feet abruptly changed. Gone was the firm feeling dirt, replaced with what he could only call a wobbling surface that creaked ominously. He froze. "Stop!"

"What?"

Rodney's annoyed voice held a note of concern. Carefully turning his head, John caught a glimpse of his team from the corner of his eye. "I'm not standing on solid ground anymore." As if in response, the surface under his feet creaked again. John felt it bend under his weight. "This is not good."

He felt more than heard Ronon edge closer, but although the Satedan was still on solid ground, he felt the wobbling surface under his feet shift in response. "Ronon? Stay back. The ground is way too wet and unstable for you to get any closer." The creaking stopped as Ronon backed off.

"Sheppard, reach behind and I'll grab you."

John licked his lips as he considered Ronon's suggestion.

"Colonel, you cannot see it but Ronon can pull you back if you reach for him," Teyla reassured.

John sighed. "Right." He slowly let go of his P-90 with his left hand and gradually moved his arm behind him and towards Ronon.

"Sheppard," Ronon urged.

"I'm working on it!" John hissed. After what seemed like forever, he felt Ronon's strong grip on his wrist.

"I got you," Ronon commented quietly.

"McKay, Teyla," John's voice was hushed, his gut in knots despite the professional air he held onto, "stand back. Ronon's gonna have to do this fast..." The ominous sound of cracking wood under his feet cut off John's words. He felt the surface beneath him start to give as his weight proved to ultimately be too much for it to bear. "Crap..."

"Sheppard!" Ronon pulled hard on John's arm but was a split second too late as the fragile surface under John's feet gave way.

John felt himself falling and forced himself to let go of Ronon's arm, determined not to take the Satedan with him, but his action was futile against Ronon's tightening grip. John felt his fall break for just a moment, before air rushed by him once again and for a split second he realized that Ronon was falling with him. The bliss of freefall was broken by a sharp, breathtaking pain to his leg and a searing pain left arm, before his head met hard earth and darkness took him.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to Josie for her second set of eyes on this stuff! And thanks to everyone's reads, reviews and encouragement :)_

_--------------------_

_"Bet you wished you stayed in bed!"  
Dr. Leonard McCoy: Star Trek_

_--------------------_

"Colonel!"

Somewhere, in the recesses of his mind, John heard the call. _Teyla. _But, numbing blackness enveloped him... held him silent...

"Ronon! Colonel!"

_Ronon?_ Something pulled urgently at him, something important... a duty. John pushed away the darkness and forced his way out through the haze of unconsciousness. A deep voice called from right next to him.

"Here!"

_Ronon._ John could've sworn he'd said the man's name aloud, but no response came from him. The warm comfort of unconsciousness called to John, but he resisted.

"Are you all right?"

Teyla again. John pushed against the cobwebs the muddled his mind, latching onto her voice like an anchor. She sounded tense... concerned. He didn't like his team worried...

"I'm okay, but Sheppard's unconscious," Ronon responded.

John's grasp on consciousness was tedious but somehow he found his voice, managing a small groan. He pulled in a deep breath, the rich oxygen clearing his head, but he instantly regretted the action as pain spiked through his chest. "Argh..." he groaned.

"Sheppard?" Ronon's voice was deep and quiet.

John forced his eyes open and took in the sight of the big Satedan's face hovering over his. "Ronon?" He croaked. Broken bits of what happened came back to him. John's eyes slid shut. "Should've let go of me..."

"No." Ronon disagreed. "Teyla!"

John blinked hard and watched as Ronon stood and walked a few steps away, his arm pressed firmly against his side and a slight limp both revealing he hadn't come through the fall completely unscathed. Ronon looked up at the large opening better than twenty feet above them. "Sheppard's coming around."

"Rodney and I are headed to the gate to get help," Teyla's voice drifted down from above. "We will be back as soon as we can."

"We'll be here." Ronon turned back and faced John.

Consciousness took firmer hold on John, chasing away the oblivion and he started to become aware of his surroundings. Experimentally, he shifted his weight…

Nothing could've prepared him for the wave of pure agony that shot up from his left leg and tore through his body. He writhed and the torture redoubled as pain from his left arm joined the chorus. A strangled cry escaped his throat and he was vaguely aware of pounding the fist of his good hand in the mud as the pain consumed him. Spots danced in his vision and it was all John could do to fight off unconsciousness. "Damn!" he finally gasped.

"Leg's broken. Arm too." Ronon muttered quietly.

"No kidding," Sheppard gasped, sweat trickling down his forehead. "Femur?" He stared at Ronon's confused expression for a moment. "Thigh?" He amended.

"Yes." Ronon confirmed.

"Great..." John gasped, fighting to control the pain. "I never do things... half ways..." He blinked and pushed away the pain. Slowly, John became aware of a cold wetness soaking through his clothes and chilling his body. He moved his good hand slightly, and was rewarded with a small splash. "Leave it to me to land in a puddle..." He watched Ronon kneel close by, noting the wince and how Ronon's hand tightened on his side. John's gaze narrowed. "You okay?"

Ronon's expression was tinged with a dark amusement. "Better than you."

_Lying in a puddle is not my idea of fun..._ "Right," John lifted his head and using his good arm, he tried to sit up, only to meet Ronon's hand as the ex-runner pushed him back down.

"Don't move." Ronon's gruff reply sounded more an order than anything.

"Ronon," John swallowed hard and forced his body to relax and be still. "I'm lying in a pool of water," he tried to sound neutral, but inwardly winced at the slight irritation in his voice. "I don't suppose there's any dry ground you can help me move to?" He inhaled carefully, repressing a chilled shudder. John watched Ronon look around for a minute before staring him in the eye and shaking his head.

"No. No high ground. Probably shouldn't move that leg either." Ronon vaguely waved at John's left leg.

John sighed. "True." He looked around. "Abandoned well or something?"

"Yes." Ronon agreed.

John swallowed and closed his eyes. "This just gets better and better. Guess we're waiting for Teyla, Rodney and that help, huh?"

"Yes." Ronon repeated quietly.

John's sighed as deep as he could against his painful ribs. Just once, he wished the big Satedan would string together more than five words in one sentence. A chill raced through him again as the cold water and pain ate away at his strength. Pain shot up from his leg and John grunted softly in response. Ronon's quiet voice grabbed his attention.

"Sheppard?"

"Yeah?" John managed through clenched teeth.

"They'll be back soon."

If he hadn't been in so much pain, John would've smiled at Ronon's attempt at reassurance. "I know." John hoped his half spoken, half groaned response was understandable. He glanced at Ronon, watching as the Satedan nodded slightly in response. John closed his eyes against the cold that seeped into him and clenched his jaw, determined not to let his teeth chatter. _Broken bones, cold water, cracked ribs, probably a concussion…Shock._ While not a medic or a doctor, John was career military, and with that he'd received a fair amount of medical training. But, as the reality of his situation and injuries set in, a part of John really wished he was more ignorant of his condition. _Hurry up, guys._

_--------------------_

Teyla allowed herself a small smile as she emerged from the trees and caught sight of the Stargate. She looked back at McKay. "Hurry! We are almost there!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" He panted back.

"Dr. McKay," Teyla returned her gaze forward, "we have not run that far."

"Whatever!" McKay snapped, "some of us prefer to use our brains and not race through woods like Amazonian women!"

Teyla was unsure who or what Amazonian women were, but she had a fair idea that he did not mean it as a compliment. She shrugged it off in favor of concern as she stopped in front of the DHD and dialed the first two symbols, only to be stopped by McKay's quiet voice.

"Uhh, Teyla you may want to wait a minute."

Teyla turned. "Dr. McKay…" her voice trailed off as twenty or more natives emerged from the surrounding woods, crude long bows and crossbows aimed directly at both of them.

"Oh no…" McKay lamented as he raised his hands.

Teyla held her P-90 close, cursing herself for not sensing the trap before it had been sprung. "Please," she reasoned quietly with one of the natives, a tall dark haired man stopped close to her. "Our friends are injured. Let us contact our people so we can help them."

"You will not." The dark haired native responded immediately. "Surrender your weapons."

Teyla looked around momentarily indecisive. If Colonel Sheppard and Ronon had been there they would have a chance, but with only Dr. McKay and herself… Teyla inhaled deeply before reaching up and unclasping her P-90 from her vest. She slowly bent over and laid it on the ground in front of her.

"Teyla?" McKay questioned quietly.

"Surrender your gun," Teyla answered, her voice equally quiet. She slowly drew her side arm and laid it next to the P-90 as McKay set his in front of him. "What of our friends?" She asked hesitantly.

"They matter not to me," the man replied gruffly. "They will die where they are, and it is a just punishment. Come." He turned and walked away.

Confused, Teyla glanced at McKay, only to see her uncertainty mirrored on his face. Feeling the poke of a crossbow arrow in her back, Teyla slowly followed the leader, McKay right next to her, as they left the Stargate… and help, behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone for all the great reviews and encouragement! _

He couldn't resist it anymore. The cold water, the shock, they both proved to be too much for him to fight. John's breath was hitched as his teeth chattered beyond his control and he felt the tension permeate his body, despite his best efforts to quell it. He squeezed his eyes shut, as what had become an even, persistent pain, ramped up in response to his involuntary shivering. "Damn..." he managed. He opened his eyes as he felt a strong grip on his shoulder and looked up at Ronon.

"Sheppard?" Ronon's voice was quiet.

John stared into Ronon's eyes, mildly surprised at the compassion he saw there. Inwardly, he chastised himself. Just because the ex-runner hid his feelings well, didn't mean he didn't have them. _No less than me..._ "Could use… that help," John managed through his chattering teeth. He watched as something akin of frustration took over

Ronon's expression an instant before he looked away. "Not... your fault." John added.

Ronon's gaze narrowed as he looked back at John. "I don't like being helpless."

"Join... the c-club..." John managed a small halfhearted smile and a hint of understanding in his expression as he held gazes with Ronon.

After a moment, Ronon nodded slightly. "What can I do?"

John swallowed hard and fought to think straight. "Sh-short of getting us... out of... here? Not... much. Unless you... can set... bones?" John swore he could hear Ronon grinding is teeth as the big man shook his head.

"No."

John struggled to talk coherently. "Then... j-just keep me... company with that... charming personality... of yours." Despite his pain and shivering body, John flashed Ronon a small smile.

After a long moment, the corners of Ronon's mouth curled up slightly. His chuckle was cut short by a grimace and slight groan.

John's eyes settled on Ronon's arm, which he tightened protectively at his side. Forcing himself to concentrate John made eye contact with Ronon again. "W-what's wrong... with you?" he stammered.

"I'm fine," Ronon muttered.

"Like hell... you are," John countered. He found himself in a battle of wills with the big Satedan but in spite of his condition John refused to back down. "We-ll?" his voice hitched but John held onto his no-nonsense gaze. _Try again, big guy..._

"Hit my ribs when I landed," Ronon finally replied.

Considering Ronon's words, John stared at him a moment longer, the concentration helping him hold onto his lucidity. When he spoke at all, Ronon had a gift for understatement, which seemed to increase in direct proportion to the seriousness of the situation. The worse things were, the less he talked. John's gaze narrowed. "Broken?" It was a question, but he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Ronon stared hard at him for a minute, a slight hint of surprise in his expression. After a minute he nodded. "A couple."

An exhaled staccato breath was the closest thing to a sigh John could manage. "Take it... easy then."

Ronon abruptly stood, groaning quietly as he straightened. "May not be able to."

John watched him look up at the gaping hole above them. He thought for a minute. "Teyla and McKay?" he asked quietly.

Ronon looked down at him. "Yeah. They should've been back with help by now."

"Yeah…" John swallowed hard. Through the persistent, unending pain that flowed through his body, he felt his gut knot, as worry settled in. They weren't that far from the gate. Even if Atlantis needed time to organize people and equipment, Teyla and McKay would've grabbed Beckett and came straight back. He'd expected them to be back in thirty minutes tops. "How… long?"

Ronon's expression darkened as he looked back up at the gaping hole. "Almost two hours."

"G-great," John muttered. His eyelids felt heavy and he surrendered to the weight that pulled at them. His pain ebbed slightly and strangely John felt like he was floating.

"Sheppard!"

John's eyes snapped open at Ronon's call and he tensed, earning a bout of searing pain from his leg and arm. "Damn!" He felt the big man's hand on his shoulder and looked up into Ronon's serious expression.

"You need to stay awake," Ronon stated simply.

Realization dawned on John and he exhaled carefully against his broken ribs. _Crap! Almost lost it!_ "R-right," he stammered. "Th-thanks."

Ronon nodded once and settled back on his heels next to John, while watching him intently.

---------------------------------

"Please," Teyla sat up as tall as the small, wood cage would allow her and stared imploringly at the guard nearest to her. "Let me talk to your leader. It is very important."

"He's not listening to you," Rodney muttered. He shifted his weight and grimaced. "Sitting in two inches of mud," he groused, "just what I've always wanted to do." He grabbed one vertical wood bar next to him and shook it experimentally. "Surprisingly strong. Nothing a knife wouldn't fix. Where's Ronon and his endless supply of concealed knives when you need him?" Rodney bowed his head for a moment, before looking at Teyla.

Silently, Teyla nodded once, noting how her concern was mirrored in his eyes. She sat up straighter, sighing quietly as her head met the top of the cage. Barely tall enough for either of them to sit up straight, much less stand, Teyla felt like a caged animal. She inhaled deeply, her expression turning determined. "They must talk to us." Giving one last silent look to Rodney, she returned her attention to the guard. "We must talk to you leader now." Teyla stared at his unmoving back, frustration welling within her.

"I am here. What do you want?"

Teyla's head snapped around at the voice, her gaze finding the tall dark haired leader. "Why do you hold us?" She asked immediately. "We have done nothing to you."

The man's short, bark of a laugh was cynical. "Have you not? Your people, with weapons much like these," he pointed a short distance away where Teyla and Rodney's weapons and gear lay in a heap, "have visited before. They killed and tortured many of my people, burned our homes, destroyed our village. All because they believed we knew something we did not." His gaze narrowed in barely concealed anger. "You will pay for what your people have done!"

"We have done nothing to you!" Teyla countered. "You are mistaken!"

He shook his head. "I think not." He lifted his chin in a haughty and commanding manner. "Your people will not deceive me again." Without another word, he turned and stalked away.

Teyla sagged back against the side of the cage, her mind racing. Who did this to these people and how could Colonel Sheppard's team be mistaken for them?

"What the hell is he talking about?" Rodney questioned quietly. "Did the Athosians…"

"No," Teyla immediately cut Rodney off. "My people would never do this nor do we possess weapons such as yours. I do not know who he speaks of, but it is neither your people or mine."

"Tell that to him," Rodney muttered.

"I do not believe he is of a mind to listen," Teyla shook her head. She looked around for a minute and found that the three guards' attentions were elsewhere. "We must escape and make our way to the Stargate," she whispered.

Rodney snorted quietly and looked around his eyes finding armed villagers everywhere. "Right," his snappy voice was low. "Want to clue me in on how, exactly, we're going to do that?"

Teyla once again glanced around the village before she looked back at him. "I do not know yet," her expression turned cunning. "But, I will think of something."


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks for the reviews and encouragement! I'm so glad you all are enjoying this story:D_

The Athosian crop report failed to hold Elizabeth's attention as she read the opening set of figures for the fourth time. Sighing, she pushed back from her desk and stood, before turning and staring at the inactive gate.

Sheppard's team was a half hour overdue to check in. Not a significant amount of time, but enough to worry her and given the Colonel's track record off world, she had every reason to worry. Elizabeth smiled slightly. She was probably overreacting, but…

Her smile faded as she turned and walked out of her office to the control room. She nodded once at Major Lorne who hovered behind Zalenka, seated at ops.

Lorne left Zalenka and joined her. "Colonel Sheppard's team is overdue, ma'am."

Elizabeth smiled slightly. "I know. Think there's trouble?"

"We don't have any reason to believe its more than just a simple delay, but…"

"You don't think so," Elizabeth finished for him.

Lorne shook his head. "No, ma'am, I don't."

"Intuition, Major?" Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him.

Lorne's smile was grim. "Experience, ma'am."

Elizabeth stared at the Major for another moment before inhaling deeply and looking at Radek. "Dial M99-263." She turned back to the gate as once again the chevrons lit.

"I could be wrong, ma'am," Lorne ventured quietly.

Elizabeth smiled at him. "Maybe… maybe not. Let's be sure." She watched the wormhole flush into existence before reaching up and tapping the call button on her headset. "Colonel Sheppard, this is Weir. Do you copy?"

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John floated in a state of half consciousness. His fight to keep his eyes open and stay awake became harder by the second, until Ronon's prompts became the only thing holding him back from oblivion. The pain in his leg and arm had dulled; something he should've felt grateful for. A faint sense of concern over it set off an alarm within him, but his fading grasp on lucidity dulled it. Abruptly, loud static in his ear pierced the darkness in his mind like a knife.

"… Sheppard… Weir… copy?"

John's eyes snapped open. "Elizabeth," he muttered. He lifted his good hand sluggishly, but his fingers refused to cooperate and he couldn't seem to connect with his radio.

"I got it," Ronon tapped his earpiece. "This is Ronon, we copy."

"Ronon?… Sheppard… breaking up…"

John blinked hard as he tried to focus on the garbled message from Elizabeth. "Interference," he mumbled, his voice slightly slurred. "Teyla… Rodney?" He lazily turned his head and started at Ronon.

"Dr. Weir. You're breaking up," Ronon answered. "Colonel Sheppard is injured and we don't know where Teyla and McKay are. We need back up and Sheppard needs Beckett now." Ronon shook his head at the static that greeted his request.

"Not good." John fought his drooping eyelids… and lost.

---------------------------------------------

Elizabeth's concerned gaze found Lorne's.

"Weir…" Ronon's broken transmission was barely audible, "Sheppard… injured… backup… Beckett…" Abruptly, the transmission turned to pure static.

"Ronon, do you copy?" Elizabeth shook her head as only static greeted her hail. She looked at Lorne's expectant gaze and nodded once. "Get a team together to go after them. Take Beckett with you as well."

"Yes, ma'am," Lorne turned smartly and stalked from the control room already snapping orders in his headset and assembling his team.

Elizabeth watched him go. Only a few minutes ago she'd wondered if she had been worrying for no reason, but to hear Ronon's words, to know John was injured... She sighed, concern and frustration welling within her. _We're coming..._

Not twenty minutes later, Elizabeth hurried down the gate room stairs and walked up to Lorne's team. She looked left as Beckett, in full off world gear, complete with sidearm, vest and a backpack of medical supplies, entered the gate room. He walked up the side steps and stopped next to her and Lorne.

"We don't know anything about the Colonel's condition?" Beckett asked, his voice slightly tense.

Elizabeth shook her head. "No. Ronon's transmission was garbled. All we could decipher was that Colonel Sheppard was injured."

"Ach," Beckett shook his head.

"We don't know the situation we're walking into either, Doc, so stay sharp." Lorne added.

"Oh, this just gets better and better," Beckett sighed before giving Lorne a stern look. "Are we going or not, lad?"

Lorne smiled slightly and looked at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth stared solemnly back at him before nodding once. "You have a go, Major, be careful. I want routine check-ins no more than an hour in between."

"Yes, ma'am." Lorne turned to the six, heavily armed, Marines that milled around in front of the active Stargate. "Okay," his voice captured all their attentions. "Let's move out. I'm on point, Simms you take the six. Doc," Lorne glanced at Beckett, "fall in behind me. Let's go." Lorne confidently crossed the event horizon, his team closely behind.

--------------------------------

"Sheppard."

Dimly, John heard Ronon's voice, but it sounded distant, as if called across a large field. John's mind wandered. _Field… the warmth of the sunshine on his face… _

"Sheppard!"

Ronon's voice was louder this time, accompanied by a shake of John's shoulder. John tried to speak but all that he managed was a quiet groan, which earned him another shake to his shoulder.

"Sheppard! Wake up!"

John felt himself grimace at the loud voice that assaulted him, kept him from the warm darkness… the comfortable oblivion he longed for… _No!_ A panicked voice inside him pulled him back from the edge; forced him to face reality. "Ronon…" John slurred.

"Stay awake," Ronon's firm voice was commanding.

Slowly, John opened his eyes. "'m here… help?"

Ronon nodded. "Should be on its way now."

John blinked as he processed Ronon's words. Somehow, he felt some relief, as his pain lessened even more, no longer aggravated by intense shivering. A small voice inside him knew he should care that help was coming, but it was squashed by a numbing apathy.

"Sheppard!"

John cared less and less about Ronon's call, but something inside him, something his muddled mind couldn't identify, grabbed onto Ronon's voice and held it like a lifeline; one final connection between John and the conscious world. He opened his eyes slightly and even through his blurred vision, he could make out the intensity on Ronon's face. John opened his mouth, but no sound came from it.

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The instant Lorne emerged from the Stargate he trotted forward, his gun ready for any movement that may greet them. Behind him, his team fanned out immediately securing the area around the Stargate. "Clear?" Lorne asked, his eyes never diverting from his sector. He nodded to himself as each of his team members gave him an affirmative reply.

Lorne reached up and tapped his radio call button. "Colonel Sheppard, Ronon. This is Major Lorne. Do you copy?"

"Lorne… Ronon… where…" Ronon's broken reply brought a slight smile to Lorne's face.

"We just came through the gate. Your transmission is breaking up, Ronon. Where are you?" Lorne questioned. He glanced sideways as Beckett walked up next to him.

"Path… hole… injured."

"In a hole?" Beckett shook his head.

"That'd explain the spotty radio transmissions," Lorne reasoned. A sense of urgency gripped him. He clicked on his radio. "Sit tight, Ronon, we're comin'."

"Sir," Simms walked up next to Lorne and Beckett. "There's a trail right through the trees." He pointed.

Lorne nodded. "Looks like as good a lead as any." He waved his men over. "Michaels, Johnson, you have gate duty. The rest of you fall in. Let's go." Lorne started off towards the narrow path into the trees.

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	5. Chapter 5

_HUGE thanks to GateGeek for helping me track down continuity errors! That's what happens when I keep moving people around! LOL _

Carson could've sworn someone was watching him. For the second time in as many minutes, he looked over his shoulder but only saw Simms walking along behind him. Carson sighed and turned his attention forward again. 

"Something wrong, Doc?" Simms asked quietly.

"Nay. Just a feeling someone's watching us," Carson admitted. He resisted the urge to look back as he heard Simms' pace quicken as the Marine caught up with him.

"Don't worry, Doc. We're all a little jumpy. There's something about this place…" his voice trailed off as he stepped back behind Carson and resumed his place in line.

_Great._ Carson shook his head. _Even the bloody Marines are jumpy…_ he stumbled and nearly ran into Lorne as the Major stopped abruptly.

"Okay, that's a problem." Lorne looked up and down the impressive landslide that blocked their way.

"Sir," Simms pointed off to the left. "Tracks."

Carson turned around as Lorne walked to Simms' position and knelt. He carefully touched a deep boot print. "Looks like standard military issue, but tracking was never my thing. Simms?" He looked up.

Simms knelt opposite Lorne. "Looks that way." His gaze followed the tracks into the brush. "They lead off in this direction."

Lorne sighed then tapped his radio call button. "Ronon? Do you copy?"

"This… Ronon."

"He sounds clearer," Carson observed, finding hope in his words. Static still plagued their communication, but it wasn't nearly as interfering as before. _We have to be closer._ He reasoned.

Lorne nodded. "We're on the path but a landslide is blocking our way. We found some tracks leading off into the woods. Are we in the right place?"

"…right… not far…" Ronon's broken reply conveyed enough information to make all of them smile slightly.

"Copy that," Lorne stood. "We're coming." Lorne stepped off the path and into the brush.

Carson followed closely behind Lorne. A sense of urgency tightened his gut, but Carson was familiar with it. The feeling came with the territory, and he experienced it every time he worked a trauma case. Those first few minutes, when you don't know enough to really know the status of your patient, but your gut tells you its bad. Carson hadn't even seen Sheppard yet, but something inside him was foreboding. His grandmother always told him he had a sixth sense when it came to "doctoring"... Carson was snapped from his thoughts by Lorne's strong arm pushing him back.

"Watch it!"

Carson's eyes widened in shock. "Crap," he muttered. Barely visible through the recently broken brush were the jagged remains of what looked like a lashed wooden grate, with a gaping hole in the center. "Is that…"

Lorne's call interrupted Carson. "Ronon! Colonel Sheppard!"

"We're here!" Ronon's muffled voice replied.

"What about Teyla and McKay?" Lorne questioned.

"They never made it back to the gate?"

Ronon's question sent a cold chill through Carson. "Oh no…"

"Damn," Lorne muttered. He looked over his shoulder at his men. "Keep a sharp eye out." He tapped his radio call button. "Michaels, Johnson. This is Lorne. Teyla and McKay are missing. Keep your eyes peeled and check in if you see anything unusual."

"Yes, sir." Johnson immediately responded.

"No, Ronon. They didn't make it back." Carson took a step forward and froze, as the wet dirt under his feet shifted slightly, accompanied by a low groan from what was left of the wood grate.

"Hang on, Doc," Lorne urged quietly.

Carson stood unmoving. "Aye," he breathed. Slowly, he backed up a step and turned to face Lorne. "I need to see down there, then we need to figure a way for me to get down there. I need to assess Colonel Sheppard's condition before we do anything." Carson looked back to the hole. "Ronon! How badly hurt is the Colonel?"

"Broken leg and arm! Keeps losing consciousness!" Ronon replied. "Hurry up!"

"Aye, lad," Carson placated, "we're working on it. The ground is pretty unstable. We don't want to bring this whole thing down on top of you two!"

"I know." Ronon snapped.

Carson winced at the ex-runner's tone and looked at Lorne.

"Okay," Lorne unclipped his P-90 and handed it to Simms. "I'm going to lay down on my stomach and work my way out there so we can see what's going on. It should hold me, but let's get that coil of rope and tie me off to be sure."

"Yes, sir," Simms nodded. He pulled his backpack off and grabbed a large coil of sturdy rope.

"Wait," Carson put a restraining hand on Lorne's chest. "I should do this."

"No way, Doc. This is what they pay me the big bucks for," Lorne objected.

Carson shook his head. "I need to see the Colonel to begin assessing his condition. I'll do it."

"Doc, you can't assess much from here and just looking," Lorne countered.

"Ach! Are ye a doctor now, Major?" Carson raised his voice in frustration. "There's a lot I can learn from seeing the situation. Besides, it's a damn sight better than nothing. Now, I'm doing this." He stared evenly back at Lorne, daring the Major to object.

Lorne sighed and raised a placating hand. "All right, okay. I'll keep hold of you."

"Right." Carson shrugged out of his backpack. He lifted his arms as Lorne quickly wrapped the rope around him and rigged a makeshift harness. As Carson knelt, a quiet voice inside chastised him for insisting on doing this, but his sense of duty to his patient quelled it. Carson slowly lowered onto all fours, then to his stomach. He felt the rope go taunt for a moment before Lorne fed him some slack. Bending his legs and carefully pulling on a few of the remaining fractured timbers, Carson worked his way towards the hole. Reaching it, he grabbed onto the ragged ends of the timbers and peeked over the edge. He immediately made eye contact with Ronon, who was about thirty feet down.

"Doc," Ronon nodded up at him, "Sheppard's hurt pretty bad."

Carson's gaze drifted from Ronon to Sheppard and it was all Carson could do not to wince. _Grandma's intuition always was right…_Carson thought as he realized his sense of urgency wasn't unwarranted. Even from the distance, he could see the unhealthy pallor of the colonel's complexion and the unnatural bend of his arm. "Colonel Sheppard?" Carson grimaced at the lack of response. His gaze traveled downward, taking in the slight unnatural bend to his left leg as well. _Broken radius and ulna, broken femur… looks shocky…_

"It's been hard to keep him awake, Doc," Ronon supplied.

"Aye," Carson nodded. He squinted realizing that he was seeing a faint reflection of himself. "Is he lying in water, Ronon?"

"Yeah," Ronon kicked absently, making a small splash. He looked up at Carson and held his thumb and forefinger about four inches apart. "About this much standing water. I propped his head up, but there's no place dry to move him to."

"Judging by the looks of that leg, I'd be hesitant to move him too much without stabilizing it first," Carson reassured. "But he's likely hypothermic. Can you get any response from him at all?"

Ronon knelt and poked Sheppard's uninjured arm. "Sheppard."

Carson watched the colonel intently, his gaze narrowing as Sheppard's head moved slightly. Carson listened hard, and nodded as he heard a quiet moan from Sheppard.

Carson looked over his shoulder at Lorne. "He's hypothermic and sustained serious injuries. I'm going to need a break away stretcher to get him out, blankets and warmed IV's. I have a splint for his arm, but I need a traction splint for his leg. Send someone for that stuff, some extra manpower, and whatever we'll need to lift him out of there." Carson stared intently at Lorne. "Now." He watched a new level of seriousness take over Lorne's expression as the Major read every bit of what Carson didn't say aloud.

Turning his attention away from Lorne, Carson tuned out the major barking orders at his men. "Colonel? Can ye hear me?" Carson called.

"Carrrssssonn…"

Sheppard's slurred speech was quiet and really all Carson heard were the "s", but he took it as a faintly good sign. He smiled grimly. "Aye, lad. I'm here. We're going to get you out, so hang in there. Stay awake and talk to Ronon."

"Doc?"

Lorne's voice demanded Carson's attention. He looked back. "Major?"

"Coffey is double-timing it for the gate right now."

"Aye, good." Carson pushed away from the hole and slowly turned a hundred and eighty degrees so his feet dangled over the edge.

"Doc? What are you doing?"

Carson quirked his brows at Lorne's wary question. "You need to lower me down into the hole."

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"No time for arguments!" Carson cut Lorne off. "I need to get down there now. As soon as I'm down, send me my pack."

Lorne sighed before nodding slightly. "Hang on a second." He handed Carson's line to Simms before shrugging out of his vest and coat. Lorne pulled his vest back on over his t-shirt and tossed his coat to Beckett. "Use that to pad the rope so it doesn't fray against the edges."

Carson nodded. "Right." He quickly situated the coat and took a deep breath before scooting to the edge.

"Okay," Lorne's voice was calm. "Nice and easy, Doc."

Carson stared down the hole at Ronon and Sheppard. He swallowed against the butterflies in his stomach. "Aye." Slowly, Carson scooted off the edge, trusting Lorne and Simms to hold his weight. He held tightly to the rope as he slowly descended into the hole._ Not far… bloody hell, why am I doing this?_ Carson took a deep breath. _Because the Colonel needs you, you ninny!_ His eyes snapped open as he felt a strong hand on his leg followed by a deep voice.

"I got you, Doc," Ronon muttered.

"Beckett?" Lorne's voice drifted down from above.

Carson's feet passed through the standing water and contacted firm ground. He hissed quietly as cold water instantly seeped through his shoes before looking up. "I'm down. Hold on a minute." Carson quickly stepped out of the harness. "Take the rope and send me my pack!" Wasting no time, Carson sloshed through the water and crouched by Sheppard. He pressed his fingers into the colonel's neck, wincing at the cold feel of Sheppard's skin. "Colonel? Can ye hear me?" He pursed his lips as Sheppard moaned quietly and weakly moved his head. "Open your eyes, Colonel," Carson urged. "Come on, lad, open your eyes for me." Carson shook his head slightly at the slow rate of Sheppard's pulse, mentally noting each symptom and trying to estimate Sheppard's core temperature. _Wavering between stupor and delirium, decreased heart rate, extended exposure time compounded with shock, absence of shivering… _Carson sighed. "Moderate hypothermia," he muttered to himself, "probably low thirties…"

"How is he?" Ronon knelt on the other side of Sheppard and held Carson's pack up, keeping it out of the water.

Carson looked up, noting the big man's stiff movement and winces. "He's gone and made a mess of himself," Carson sighed. "Oh, and when I'm done here, I want to take a look at those ribs, son."

"I'm fine, Doc," Ronon grumbled.

"I'll be the judge of that, thank you," Carson returned his attention to Sheppard, but he could feel Ronon's icy stare. "Colonel," Carson urged. "You need to open your eyes now." Carson smiled slightly as Sheppard's eyelids slowly parted. His stare was distant, but Carson found some relief in that small achievement. "I need you to stay awake, Colonel. We're going to get you out of here but you have to stay awake, understand?"

"D…dad…" Sheppard slurred, his unfocused gaze passing right through Carson.

"Doc?" Ronon questioned.

"He's delirious. It's the hypothermia. We need to get him out of here as soon as possible." Carson looked up. "Lorne! Where's that help?"

"Comin', Doc!" The distance muted Lorne's voice but it was clear. "We can't raise Michaels and Johnson at the gate, some sort of interference, but Coffey just radioed that he's almost there."

"Tell him to get a move on it," Carson insisted, knowing full well that everyone involved knew the urgency of Sheppard's condition. Carson sighed, stifling his frustration. He stared at the hole above him for a moment as silence lingered.

"He knows, Doc," Lorne finally replied, his tone understanding.

----------------------------

"_Dad?" John looked around, his gaze only finding darkness. "Dad?"_

"_Son."_

_The echo of his father's voice surrounded John. He looked frantically. "Dad? Where are you?"_

"_Here."_

_Again, the voice was impossible for John to pinpoint. "Dad, please!"_

"_John."_

_In spite of the echo, John felt warmth and reassurance from his father's voice. His reaction was reflexive; the tone of his father's voice bringing him comfort. He stopped looking, his panic fading. Content, John stood motionless… waiting._

"_Be strong, John. You must be strong."_

_John turned his head one way, then another. "I am Dad, I mean I try to."_

"_I know, son, but you must try harder. Now more than ever. Be strong. Help yourself."_

"_I don't…" John's question trailed off as another, insistent voice demanded his attention._

"Colonel…" 

--------------------------------------

"Colonel," Carson insisted, as he quickly pulled a collapsible splint from his pack, along with two rolls of wrap to secure it. "Colonel?" Carson repeated.

"Carssson?"

John's voice was heavily slurred, but his moment of lucidity wasn't lost on Carson. "Aye," he couldn't quite keep the surprise from his voice, "'tis me. Keep talking to me, lad." Carefully, Carson positioned the splint around John's arm and set to securing it.

"You're not setting the bone?" Ronon asked quietly.

Mildly surprised, Carson looked up at the ex-runner. _I always knew there was more thinking going on in that head of his, then he let on…_ "No. He's too cold. Any jarring, including trying to set the bone could likely bring on a heart arrhythmia or even cardiac arrest. Can't risk it. Once we get his core temperature stabilized, we'll set the bones." Carson finished immobilizing Sheppard's arm, all the while forcing down his frustration. There was little he could do for the injured colonel until they got him out of this hole and in a position for proper medical care. Carson sighed. "Hurry," he whispered. Looking up at Ronon, Carson knew the Satedan felt the same.

-------------------------------------

Lorne fought the urge to fidget, as he stood helpless in front of the hole. He knew Coffey was moving as fast as he could, but that did nothing to calm Lorne's impatience. Static in his headset grabbed Lorne's attention.

"Major!" Coffey's voice was strained, "I've encountered hostile natives! They're firing arrows at me. Michaels and Johnson are dead and I'm making a break for the gate!"

Lorne slapped the call button on his radio. "Coffey, this is Lorne. Do what you have to do to defend yourself and get to the gate for help! That's an order!" On the heels of his command, Lorne winced as P-90 fire blared in his ear. "Coffey? Do you copy?" Lorne resisted the urge to kick the nearest rock as his question was met only with static. "Damn it!" He pushed aside his anger at the loss of two good men and maybe a third. Before Coffey's volley, they hadn't heard any gunfire, which made Lorne conclude Michaels and Johnson had been ambushed. He looked at Simms for a moment before the Marine flipped the safety off his P-90 and turned away. Lorne's gaze quickly passed over the other two Marines. "Stay sharp."

Lorne turned back to the hole. "Doc, we have a problem."

"Ach, what now?" Carson's voice drifted back up.

"Sounds like Coffey ran into the natives and they were less than friendly. Michaels and Johnson are dead and I'm not sure if Coffey made it to the gate or not." Lorne could've sworn he heard Carson's sigh even from a distance.

"Oh, that's lovely! Now what?"

"Workin' on it, Doc." Lorne turned and waved at two of the Marines. "Masters, Walker, you two head for the gate, but go quietly. See if you can figure out what's going on and get back to Atlantis if you can. The Colonel needs help, and we all need reinforcements ASAP." Lorne looked back and forth between them for a moment. "Go."

Lorne glanced at Simms, as Walker and Masters headed off through the woods. "Well, it's just you and I."

Simms smiled grimly. "Yes, sir."


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you for your continued reviews and support! It means a lot:D   
_

"That's it, I'm not waiting any longer." Carson stood up and stepped around behind Sheppard's back.

"What are you doing?" Ronon watched Carson intently.

"He needs to be warmed and he needs it now. We can't wait for help to get here." Carson knelt behind Sheppard and lifted his upper body out of the water. "Take one of your knives and cut the vest's binding straps under the splint so you can take it off without jarring that arm any." Carson stared at Ronon for a second longer. "Now, son," he insisted.

Ronon pulled a small knife from the vambrace that covered his left forearm, stepped over Sheppard and knelt. He quickly cut the vest's bindings, the sharp knife passing easily through the narrow webbing.

Sheppard moaned quietly and tried to speak, his voice thick and slurred. "D-dad-d…"

"Easy, lad," Carson whispered. He nodded at Ronon. "Pull it off him, carefully. Don't jar him too much."

Ronon complied. "What are we doing, Doc?" Ronon set the vest next to him and looked back at Carson.

"We're getting him out of some of these wet clothes. Carefully now, cut the coat sleeve just above the splint and down under his arm. Then pull the coat off in the same manner."

Ronon set to work on the coat. "Why? He's just going to lay in the cold water again."

"No, he's not. When we get his shirt off, I want you to hold him while I take off mine. Skin to skin contact may help stabilize his body temperature, at least around his vital organs. 'Tis not as good as medical treatment, but its all we have right now, and he can't wait any longer."

Ronon unzipped Sheppard's coat and carefully pulled it off him. He cut the shirt in a similar manner as the coat and before long, Sheppard's torso was bare.

"C-cold-d…" Sheppard muttered his eyes never opening.

"I know, John," Carson answered by habit, knowing full well Sheppard probably couldn't hear him. "Just hold on. We'll get ye warm." Carson looked back to Ronon. "Good. Hold him." He relinquished Sheppard's weight to Ronon and quickly shrugged out of his vest and coat. He threw the coat over Ronon's shoulder, being careful to keep it as dry as possible, before pulling his shirt over his head. Scooting closer to Sheppard, Carson nodded at Ronon. "Lean him back against me. Gently now." Carson grimaced as Ronon settled Sheppard against his chest.

"What is it?" Ronon asked, noting Carson's expression.

"He's really cold." Carson wrapped his arms around Sheppard, ignoring his own cold. "Put the coat around my shoulders and tuck it in where you can. Then tell Lorne to send his and Simm's coats down as well." Carson looked down as Sheppard moaned quietly. "Easy, son," he responded, "we'll get ye through this." Carson's brow furrowed as he tightened his grip on Sheppard. "What I wouldn't give for a warm IV and dry ground." He muttered. Before long, Carson looked up at Ronon who stood before him with two coats in his hands.

"Doc?"

Carson nodded. "Lay one over the Colonel's body and try to keep it out of the water. Put the other one on yourself."

"Doc, I have a coat…" Ronon protested.

"No arguments!" Carson interrupted. "Your coat is soaked. Get out of it and put that dry one on. I have one hypothermia patient! I don't need another." Carson stared hard at Ronon's defiant gaze.

After a moment, Ronon sighed and threw one coat over his shoulder. He then knelt and draped the other one over Sheppard and tucked it in where he could. Standing up straight, Ronon shrugged out of his duster and into the remaining coat.

In spite of the serious situation, Carson had to stifle a smile. The coat wouldn't close in front, looked like it was going to rip across the shoulders if Ronon even moved, and the sleeves only reached half way down the big man's arms.

Ronon glowered. "Not a word, Doc."

"Sorry," Carson managed. He worked his hand up under the coat and pressed his fingers into Sheppard's neck. "Still too bloody slow. We got to get him out of this water."

"What about you?" Ronon asked quietly.

Carson stifled a shiver. "I'll be fine, as long as we don't have to stay here too long." He looked up, his eyes catching on Ronon's expression.

Respect filled Ronon's face, and his eyes crinkled as his mouth turned up in a small smile.

-----------------------------------------

"Off-world activation!"

The technician's call snapped Elizabeth from her brooding. She quickly exited her office and walked swiftly to the control room.

"Reading Lieutenant Coffey's IDC," the technician confirmed.

"Lower the shield," Elizabeth ordered. She bypassed the control deck and headed for the gate room stairs. Stopping on the mid level landing, Elizabeth's eyes widened in shock as Coffey staggered backwards through the gate, still firing his P-90. "Raise the shield!" She shouted, watching as the gate room guards immediately trained their guns on the active Stargate. The shield sprang to life for a moment, before the gate shut down.

Elizabeth dashed down the remaining stairs and jogged across the gate room. "Lieutenant? What's going on?"

Coffey turned to face her. "Natives ma'am. We found Colonel Sheppard. Doc gave me a list of specific things he needs immediately, but when I got back to the gate, Michaels and Johnson, who were on gate duty, were dead. I had to fight my way back here."

"The others?" Elizabeth's gut knotted.

"Don't know, ma'am. They were okay when I left them, but the natives might have found them by now. Teyla and McKay are missing as well. Probably has something to do with the hostiles."

"Colonel Sheppard? How badly hurt is he?"

"Bad, ma'am. He's fallen about twenty-five feet into what looks like an abandoned well. Ronon too, but he doesn't seem to badly hurt. Natives be damned, we have to get back there now. We'll need a standing scaffolding, and break away stretcher to get the Colonel out plus the rigging and ropes for it."

Elizabeth turned away from him for a second, her mind racing. _Natives? Teyla and Rodney missing? John…_Elizabeth pulled in a deep, determined breath. Natives or no, her people needed help. She turned back and faced Coffey. "Lieutenant, with Colonel Sheppard and Major Lorne off world and Captain Hauser on the inactive list, I need you to take charge of a team to go back and extract them. Gather as many men as you see fit and arm them with whatever you feel is necessary. Get the equipment you need for the rescue and be ready to go in fifteen minutes. Tell me exactly what Carson needs to treat Colonel Sheppard and I'll have Dr. Biro get the supplies together right away." Elizabeth nodded, concentrating as the lieutenant rattled off a list of supplies to her. She tapped the call button on her radio. "Dr. Biro, this is Dr. Weir."

"Yes, Dr. Weir?" Dr. Biro's voice responded.

"Dr, we have an emergency medical situation off-world involving hypothermia. I'm on my way to you now with a specific list of items Dr. Beckett needs."

"Understood." Biro answered, "There are certain standard items I know he'll want. I'll get started with those."

"Thank you, Dr. Weir out." She watched as Coffey turned away and started issuing orders in his radio, before quickly heading towards the infirmary.

-------------------------------------------

Teyla shifted her weight and pulled her jacket tighter around her body. The cold, clammy mud did nothing to help her stay warm, but at the moment it was the least of her concerns. Caged and helpless, Teyla fought frustration. Colonel Sheppard and Ronon needed her help, and yet she could not give it. She glanced at Dr. McKay who silently brooded. To escape, she had no doubt they would have to fight, yet Teyla knew Dr. McKay wasn't a warrior. With a gun, perhaps he could defend himself, but without? She sighed quietly. They would have to try, but only at the right time.

"You!"

Teyla was snapped from her thoughts by a rough voice. She looked up and stared confidently through the bars of the cage at a guard standing over her. "What?" she asked quietly.

"Taruk is handling a dispute. He will speak with both of you shortly."

"Taruk?" Teyla questioned.

"Our leader," the guard bent closer to the cage. "You are to know the manner in which you will die," his voice was low and dangerous.

Teyla stared back evenly, refusing to show any fear. She said nothing, but her bearing said everything. She watched as the guard's gaze narrowed slightly, a hint of approval showing in his expression. Without a word, he turned and walked away.

Inhaling deeply, Teyla turned her attention to McKay.

"Great," Rodney's expression was far from calm. "We're so dead."

"Dr. McKay..." Teyla started.

"Teyla, they're going to kill us!" Rodney's voice broke over the last word.

"Dr... McKay," Teyla hardened her quiet voice, forcing him to listen. "When they take us from this cage, we must attempt to escape."

"Teyla..."

"Rodney," Teyla leaned forward. "We may not have another chance."

"I..." Rodney sighed, a rare moment of uncertainty overcoming him. "I've never been much into fighting, Teyla..." his voice trailed off.

Teyla allowed a small reassuring smile. "I know. I will not attempt anything until we are close to where our weapons are," she nodded her head to a spot not far away where their weapons and vests lay stacked on the ground. "When I attack you must break for the weapons. Take a P-90 and use it to defend yourself. I will not be far behind you."

"How do you know we'll be led anywhere close to where our guns are?" Rodney questioned his whisper emphatic.

"I have been watching Taruk. He frequently enters and leaves that tent," she gestured slightly. "I believe it is his. The path from here to there will take us directly past our weapons." She smiled slightly as something akin of respect briefly flashed over Rodney's expression. It was short lived.

"Yes, well," Rodney shrugged, "guess we have no choice."

Teyla's smile faded. "No. We do not." She looked up, watching as three men with crossbows came towards her. "They are coming." She gave him one, last reassuring look. "You will do fine, Rodney."

"Yeah, right." Rodney's voice sounded less than convinced.

Two of the three men stopped and pointed crossbows at her and McKay as the third one quickly unchained the cage and lifted the top.

"Out." The guard grunted.

Teyla slowly stood, briefly stretching as she tried to loosen up her stiff muscles. The guard grabbed her roughly by the arm, an action Teyla barely resisted retaliating against.

"I said out!" He forcibly pulled her from the cage, as another guard motioned his crossbow at McKay.

Teyla walked next to Rodney. She stared silently forward at the back of the guard in front of her, while her intuition tracked the two that followed behind. Her gaze subtly found the small pile of weapons and their equipment and she pulled in a quiet deep breath as the approached it.

Teyla glanced at Rodney, catching his eye as she arched her eyebrow slightly. Without warning, Teyla whirled around and delivered a crushing blow to the head of the guard behind her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Rodney throw a surprisingly strong elbow into the guard behind him before he dove for the weapons. Taking advantage of Rodney's guard's distraction, Teyla punched him into unconsciousness. Before the third guard could react, she spun and drove a foot into his gut, before her roundhouse kick knocked him cold.

"Teyla!" Rodney, carrying both P-90's ran towards her. He stopped next to her and shoved one of the weapons into her hands.

She flipped off the safety and fired several rounds at the feet of a group of armed villagers who ran towards her. Teyla glanced over her shoulder and saw the path away from the village was clear, for the moment. "GO!" She shouted as she pushed Rodney towards the path. Never taking her eyes from the hostile villagers, Teyla fired another series of shots into the ground before them, hoping to slow their pursuit. Killing them was not her first choice, but Teyla realized, as her repeated volleys did nothing to slow them, that she might not have any other option.

Half running, half backing away from the villagers, and keeping herself between them and Rodney, Teyla gasped as a crossbow bolt grazed her upper arm. Tuning out the pain, Teyla's gut clenched as cold determination took over. Lifting her gun, she fired directly at two villagers, winging one in the arm and the other two in the leg.

It slowed the pursuit as the remaining villagers dove for cover. The cold reality of the situation hit her. She'd wounded them and by doing so, they would never believe that she or any of the others were anything other than what the villagers accused them of being. They had to escape now, for if they were recaptured, death would be swift. She turned and pushed on McKay's back. "Run Rodney! Now!" Constantly looking over her shoulder at the villagers, Teyla followed behind McKay, their path taking them towards the distant Stargate. In the last glimpse she caught of the villagers before the trees obscured her vision, she watched them emerge from hiding and take up the pursuit.


	7. Chapter 7

Lorne's grip on his P-90 tightened as he glanced at Simms.

"Sir, was that..."

"Yep," Lorne cut off the Marine's question. "Sounded like a P-90 to me."

"Teyla and McKay?" Simms questioned.

"Maybe." Lorne looked around as another volley of gunfire faintly echoed through the trees. "They're putting up a hell of a fight," he commented absently. "Keep a sharp eye, Simms." Lorne ventured as close to the hole as he could. "Doc? We may have a problem."

--------------------------------

Carson really wasn't sure how their situation could get any worse, but the tone of Lorne's voice made him doubt that sentiment. "Ach, what now?"

"Gunfire," Lorne's voice responded. "Keep quiet until we know what's going on."

Ronon walked up under the hole. "Pull me up to help you."

"No can do, Ronon. The rope's taken a beating. I doubt it'll hold together to pull you out." Lorne replied.

"The last thing I need is another patient," Carson added. "Looks like you're stuck here." Carson arched his brows at the growl Ronon replied with before the big man turned away. Carson refocused his attention on John and suppressed a chill that ran through him. He tightened his arms. "Colonel?" Carson shook John slightly. "Colonel?" he repeated. Carson sighed at the colonel's lack of response. "Bloody hell," he muttered.

-------------------------------

"Faster Rodney!" Teyla pushed lightly on his back and looked over her shoulder. She could not see their pursuers, but knew they were there. Beyond actually knowing they were following, in her heart she just _knew_... and she had learned long ago to trust her intuition.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Rodney's voice broke on the last word as he ducked under a branch. "Are we even heading in the right direction of the gate?" He added breathlessly.

"No." Teyla answered.

"WHAT?" Rodney's voice went up an octave.

"The gate will be guarded as before. But, if we can reach the place of Colonel Sheppard's accident, it is likely we will find Atlantis personnel there. If they have already rescued him then we will head for the gate, for they will be looking for us." Teyla nimbly leapt over a small log and pushed lightly on Rodney's back again.

"Right," Rodney's voice was strained from exertion, but decidedly calmer. He staggered to a stop. "That's it. I can't go any further." He bent over, resting his hand on his knee, his chest heaving.

Teyla turned and stared behind them over the top of her P-90. "Dr. McKay, we cannot stop for long," she said quietly but urgently.

"I know... that," Rodney gasped. "Just... give me... a minute."

"Very well." Teyla's gaze never left the seemingly quiet woods. A hunter all her life, she felt the familiarity of her instincts take over. Taking a deep breath, she tuned into her senses, listening... feeling for anything dangerous. The silence that greeted her should have given her comfort, but instead quiet but persistent warnings plagued her. The animals of the forest were silent, as if something had interrupted their day. She stepped back closer to Rodney. "Dr. McKay, we must go... now."

On the heels of her statement, a crossbow bolt cut through the underbrush and slammed into a log barely two feet from McKay, with a resounding thud.

"Jesus!" Rodney jumped back, his eyes wide and fixed on the bolt, still vibrating from impact. "Time's up!"

Teyla fired a volley of warning shots and followed behind as Rodney took off through the trees.

-----------------------------

Adrenaline spiked through Lorne as he lifted his gun, his gaze darting around the dense bushes surrounding them. "Okay, those shots were a LOT closer."

"Yes, sir," Simms agreed. He stepped up shoulder to shoulder with Lorne. "Sounds like it came from that way," he gestured slightly with his P-90 in the direction Lorne was looking.

"Think so," Lorne agreed. He pursed his lips. With the tall trees and dense vegetation, the source of the gunfire was hard to pin down from the echoes. A rustling in the underbrush grabbed Lorne's attention. His gaze hardened as he braced one foot behind him and trained his P-90 on the disturbance. Only his training stopped him from firing immediately as two mud-covered and panting figures burst from the bushes barely ten feet away from him.

"It's us!" Rodney shouted his voice panicked.

Lorne lowered his gun. "Nice of you to drop in," he commented dryly.

"Save it for later!" Rodney snapped. "There's a group of angry natives not far behind us." He stepped around behind Lorne as Teyla took position beside Simms.

"Great," Lorne muttered.

"Sheppard?" Rodney walked as close to the hole as he dared.

"Here!" Ronon shouted.

"They're still down there?" Rodney's gaze turned accusatory as he glared at Lorne.

Lorne clenched his jaw for a moment, his gaze never leaving the woods. "We've been a little tied up, McKay," he snapped. "Reinforcements should be on the way... if Coffey got back to Atlantis alive. Michaels and Johnson are dead and I can't reach Masters or Walker."

"Teyla? Rodney?" Beckett's voice drifted up from the hole.

Rodney looked around for a second. "Carson?"

"Aye! You all right, Rodney?" Carson questioned.

"Besides having a pack of pissed off natives chasing me and my life being in direct peril?" Rodney snapped.

"We are both fine, Carson," Teyla answered.

Lorne glanced at Teyla and shook his head slightly. His gaze settled on a deep red line of crusted blood that traversed her bicep. "You sure?"

Teyla glanced down at her arm briefly before looking at him and nodding once. "I am well enough." She abruptly looked back at the woods, her gaze growing distant. "They are close."

"This gets better and better," Lorne knelt and lifted his gun as Teyla and Simms followed suit. "McKay, get over here. Shoot only when I say so and try not to shoot any of us." He glanced at Rodney who knelt next to him.

"Funny," Rodney grimaced. "This really sucks you know that?"

"Yeah, McKay, I know that," Lorne sighed.

"Major?" Carson's voice called up to Lorne.

"Pipe down, Doc," Lorne called back. "We're a little busy at the moment."

"Major," Teyla commented quietly. "Warning shots have not worked."

Lorne stared hard at her for a moment, before nodding slowly. "Shoot to kill," he ordered, his voice holding a note of finality. Commotion behind him sent a spike of adrenaline through his body. "They're flanking us! Simms!" Lorne jumped up, turned and knelt, situating himself back to back with Rodney, while Simms did the same with Teyla. _Surrounded... we're toast._ Lorne felt the cold bite of reality, but tuned it out. Damned if he was going to go down without a fight... or leave the Colonel, Carson and Ronon behind. "Get ready..."

Lorne honestly wondered how much surprise he could take as one minute he was staring at a dense, green forest and the next minute he found himself looking at Coffey's smiling face.

"Mind if we drop in, sir?" Coffey quipped.

"Oh thank God!" Rodney declared loudly.

"If you want," Lorne answered with a small smile. He looked past Coffey as one heavily armed Marine after another filtered into the small clearing. "Oh yeah, this evens the odds." He waved towards the woods behind him. "Take position. There's a group of hostiles coming this way, we don't know how many." He watched as the last five Marines entered the clearing, heavily laden with what Lorne presumed was rescue equipment. He looked around, counting quickly. "Fifteen of you?"

"And rescue equipment, medical supplies and another ten Marines at the gate," Coffey responded, smiling slightly. "Compliments of Dr. Weir." A shadow crossed Coffey's face. "Found Masters and Walker on the way here. They're dead." He pulled his hand out of his pocket, two sets of dog tags dangling from his fingers.

"Damn it," Lorne muttered. The conversation was ended as a crossbow bolt zipped through the bushes and took one of the Marines in the shoulder, propelling him backwards. "Fire!" Lorne shouted, his finger tightening on the P-90's trigger.

Gunfire cut through the bushes, leaving scattered leaves and broken branches in its wake. After a strong volley, Lorne raised his hand. "Cease fire!" A tense minute passed before he glanced at Coffey.

"Think the added firepower scared them away?" Coffey ventured.

"Maybe," Lorne wanted to believe the lieutenant, but still wasn't sure. "Let's get the colonel and get the hell out of here." Lorne stood and gestured at the five Marines closest to the equipment. "You five get set up. The rest of you, set up a perimeter." Lorne gestured at the two large backpacks of medical supplies. "Bring those over here lieutenant." Lorne turned towards the hole. "Doc! Supplies coming your way!"

"Is everyone all right up there?" Carson shouted back.

Lorne looked at the one Marine who took an arrow, smiling slightly as he gave a thumbs up. Lorne turned back to the hole. "We've got one wounded man, but it doesn't look bad."

"Aye! The Colonel's in a bad spot. Get me those supplies and get us out of here." Carson insisted.

"Working on it, Doc." Lorne quickly tied the rope through the strong loops on the top of both backpacks and slowly lowered them into the hole as his men set to work assembling the standing scaffolding around him.

---------------------------------

"Doc?" Ronon held the two backpacks out of the water and looked expectantly at Carson.

"Keep them dry," Carson nodded. He squinted at what looked like the end of a traction splint peaking out of the top of one of the backpacks. "I need that traction splint first."

Ronon looked around for a moment, before smiling slightly and crossing to the far wall. He experimentally tugged on a piece of jagged rock that jutted out from the edge. Grabbing the top loop of the backpack, Ronon hung it on the rock. He looked around, finding another ragged edge and repeated the process with the second backpack. Pulling the traction splint from the first one, he walked back to Carson.

"Okay, son," Carson inhaled deeply. "You need to take my place behind the Colonel so I can immobilize his leg."

Ronon gently set the traction splint on John's chest and came around behind Carson. He knelt, scooting in behind John as Carson moved out of the way.

Carson could've sworn Ronon growled as the undersized coat ripped apart across his broad back. Carson fought a weak smile as he stood and pulled his shirt back on before shrugging into his coat. "Okay, let's get this bone stabilized so we can get him out of here."

--------------------------------

John was floating. Blissfully, the pain had left him but with it so had the call of consciousness. Somewhere in the back of his head a faint voice told him to hold on, find his way back to the world... to wake up...

"_John."_

"_Dad?" He knew what his father wanted... and what he was failing at. "I'm trying, dad, I'm trying to be strong."_

"_You must win. Don't let this beat you, son. You have the strength." _

_The resolute, confident voice of Marcus Sheppard was one John was familiar with. For all his life, he'd seen a level of strength in his father that was unquestioned. They'd had their problems, but through it, John always admired his father and in many ways, even when they weren't talking to each other, John had tried to emulate his dad; to be as strong... to be half the man his father was. "Grandma Eunice always said I had your strength..." John felt a touch of cynical humor._

"_You do. You always have. Find it now. Use it." _

_Searing pain stole John's reply..._

---------------------

Carson looked up, pausing in his setting of the traction splint as John groaned quietly. "Colonel?" He couldn't keep the surprise from his voice. He glanced up at Ronon. "I didn't expect him to respond to this at all..."

"Sheppard," Ronon emphasized his call with a gentle shake to John's body. "Sheppard."

"Hurrrtsss..." John slurred.

Carson shook his head in amazement. By all intents and purposes, the injured colonel shouldn't have been awake at this point or at the very least very delirious. "Colonel? Can you hear me, lad?" Carson waited a long moment. "John?" he prompted.

"Doc..." John's voice was barely even a whisper. His eyes slowly cracked open.

"Aye, 'tis me. Hold on, son, we're getting you out of here." Carson smiled slightly, still amazed that John had even that small level of lucidity. He returned his attention to the traction splint. "Ronon, try to keep him talking."

"Sheppard. You're stronger then this. Wake up." Ronon's voice was gruff but insistent.

Carson inwardly winced. _Not the best bedside manner, but any help..._

"Sheppard!" Ronon insisted, his voice taking a note of warning. "Don't make me get mad at you."

John's responding groan was immediate. "R...non..."

Carson secured the traction splint and looked up. "We're ready here!"

"Here too, Doc." Lorne responded. "I've got a group Marines manning the rigging. It shouldn't be a problem at all to get him out of there. Sending down the basket."

"Aye," Carson agreed. "But tell those lads to take it easy. The Colonel is far from stable and any hard jarring could cause him serious complications. Slow and easy is better."

"We'll give him a smooth ride, Doc," Lorne responded.

Carson reached up, steadying the rescue basket as it slowly lowered towards him. He held it until the rope slacked enough to set it next to Sheppard. Carson looked up again. "Okay, we have it! Stand by." He sighed and fixed his gaze on Ronon. "You're going to have to help me get the Colonel into the basket, but I want you to take it easy and slow, son. That's an order."

Ronon arched a brow at Carson. "Order?"

"Aye," Carson held onto his no nonsense expression. "Medical privilege," he pointed at Ronon for added effect. "You take it easy."

Ronon's eyes wrinkled in faint and brief amusement. "Okay." He shifted his feet under himself, ran his arms under Sheppard's and clasped his hands across the colonel's chest.

Carson positioned himself at Sheppard's feet. He grabbed the ankle of the colonel's good leg and the underside of the traction splint on the other leg. "Okay, this is going to be a bit tricky. Don't lift him any more than we have to for getting him in the basket; and make it as smooth a move as possible." Carson shifted his feet and looked at Ronon, who nodded once. "One, two, three." Carson lifted at the same time Ronon did. Slowly and carefully they set Sheppard in the basket.

Carson stood, walked over to the wall of the cave and grabbed the two backpacks. He brought them back and set them gently in the basket, being careful not to jar Sheppard's broken leg or arm. He froze as Sheppard groaned again.

"St...strong... can't... d-dad..." John's head weakly thrashed back and forth.

Carson briefly laid his hand on John's shoulder. "Take it easy, lad," he whispered before stepping back and looking up. "Okay! Nice and easy, Lorne!"

"Got it, Doc!" Lorne called back.

Slowly, the basket lifted out of the water and up towards daylight.

"I need to go next to immediately start treating the Colonel... not that I want to go until I'm sure you can get out..." Carson looked at Ronon suspiciously. "No climbing. Let the Marines pull you out, understand?"

"Yeah," Ronon nodded.

Carson sighed. "I mean it, Ronon. Take it easy. I want your word on it."

Ronon smiled slightly and glanced at Carson. "Yeah, Doc."

Carson watched the basket disappear through the hole. After a minute, the end of a rope sailed back down to him. Carson quickly stepped into the makeshift harness and looked up. "Ready!" He held tight to the rope as he was slowly pulled from the hole.

As soon as his feet touched hard ground, Carson loosened the rope. He glanced at Lorne. "Pull Ronon up. Don't let him do anything strenuous, he's in more pain then he's letting on."

Lorne nodded once. "You got it, Doc."

Carson swiftly walked to Sheppard and immediately knelt. He glanced momentarily at Teyla and Rodney, who knelt on the other side of the colonel. He flashed them a grim smile before he pressed his fingers into the Colonel's carotid artery. "John?" Carson stared at John's closed eyes, "son, can ye hear me?"

"D-dad... cold... can't..." John mumbled, his words heavily slurred.

"Carson?" Teyla asked quietly.

"He's delirious." Carson pulled a pair of sturdy scissors from a small pocket on the front of on of the backpacks and handed them to McKay. "Get his boots off, and start cutting his pants away. Watch the leg." Carson rummaged around in one of the backpacks, and pulled out a thickly padded thermal pack. He pointed at the other backpack. "There should be a blanket in the bottom of that pack. Get it out. When Rodney has the Colonel's pants off, cover him with it."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Rodney muttered at a semi-conscious Sheppard, "and don't get any funny ideas about me," he added as he started cutting through Sheppard's pant leg.

Carson unzipped the thermal pack and grabbed one of the IV bags that rested within, nodding to himself at the warmth that met his touch. "They're still warm." With a practiced hand, Carson quickly started an IV on John.

He looked up as Lorne and Ronon walked over and stood next to him.

"Doc, we don't know what the natives are up to. We need to get out of here as fast as possible."

"Aye," Carson nodded. "Let's go, but slow and easy. He can't take too much jostling."

Ronon shrugged out of his ruined coat and handed it to Simms. "Here."

Simms grabbed it, eyeing the large tear across the back. "Great, thanks." He commented dryly.

Lorne smiled slightly and touched his radio call button. "Miller, this is Lorne. We're on our way back to the gate with the Colonel and his team. ETA is thirty minutes. Have Atlantis standing by."

"I want Biro and a medical team in the gate room," Carson demanded as he walked along next to John who was being carried by five Marines.

"Inform Atlantis that Dr. Beckett wants Dr. Biro and a medical team in the gate room when we arrive," Lorne added.

Their progress was slow, half because of the care they took to give the colonel a smooth ride, and half because they were on constant watch for the natives. Carson peeled his eyes away from John and looked around cautiously. His gaze met Lorne's. "No sign of the natives," Carson commented quietly.

Lorne nodded. "Yeah, maybe the added firepower scared them off."

"Maybe," Carson answered. He looked back down as John's eyelids fluttered and he moaned, before his body started shivering violently, the tension tearing a hoarse groan from him. "Stop!" Carson ordered.

The Marines immediately stopped and set the basket down gently.

Carson knelt. "Colonel?"

"What's wrong with him?" Rodney demanded as he looked over Carson's shoulder.

"He's starting to warm up and shiver," Carson responded. He peeled back the blanket and placed his hand on John's chest, nodding at the slightly warmer feel of the colonel's skin.

"Damn..." John's voice was hoarse and broken by his chattering teeth, but the slur was gone.

"Colonel?" Teyla knelt next to the basket. "John?"

Slowly, John's eyes opened. His gaze was unfocused for a moment before his eyes found hers. "Tey-la?" He asked softly.

Carson smiled slightly at the beaming grin that popped up on Teyla's face.

"Yes, Colonel," she answered.

"Mc-Kay? R-Ronon?" John stuttered.

"They're right here, Colonel," Carson reassured. "Everyone is accounted for and okay. Just take it easy, son," he tucked the blanket back in around John, "you're going to be fine. We're on our way back to Atlantis right now."

"Gl-ad t-to h-hear it," John stuttered. He winced and groaned as even the slight movement of lifting him aggravated his broken bones.

Carson grimaced slightly. "Hang in there. We'll get you something for the pain when we get back to the infirmary, all right? Just try to relax as best you can."

"R-right," John muttered. He closed his eyes as unconsciousness took him again.

------------------------------

_John's searching gaze halted as his eyes fixed on a familiar figure walking towards him. He smiled, his grin deepening as the man staring at him, returned a remarkably familiar smile of his own._

"_I never doubted you," the man said quietly._

"_Dad." John inhaled deeply. "You were right."_

_Marcus Sheppard placed a strong but gentle hand on John's shoulder. "Hold onto that strength, John." _

_Slowly, John reached up and laid his hand over his father's before squeezing slightly. "I will. Promise..."_

-------------------------

The shimmering of the wormhole never looked so good to Carson. He glanced down as once again John's eyes opened, his gaze much clearer.

"Doc?" he managed around his shivers.

"Gate's just ahead, Colonel," Carson reassured. "Almost home."

"Home..." John muttered quietly.

_Aye, lad,_ Carson thought, holding onto a small smile. _Home._


	8. Chapter 8

Somehow, Major Lorne knew the glimmer of relaxation in his gut at the sight of the newly formed wormhole would be short lived, but as he tried to write it off to pessimism, he was proven true. Lorne's hands tightened on his P-90 as two of the Marines guarding the gate tensed and raised their guns, swiftly followed by the other eight. Almost immediately, his radio crackled to life.

"Sir! We have natives approaching at three o'clock!" Miller called from the gate.

Lorne looked right and cursed at the sight of a large group of natives emerging from the trees. "Must be fifty or more." Still a good hundred yards from the gate, there was no way they would make it before the natives managed to intercept them, especially carrying Colonel Sheppard. "Defensive positions!" Lorne ordered. He raised his P-90 and glanced at Ronon, who stood at his left shoulder. "Just when we thought we were home free," he muttered.

"All I want is the leader," Ronon's voice was low and dangerous.

"Hold your fire, Ronon," Lorne answered, "there are enough of us, we may be able to talk our way out of this." He tapped his headset. "Miller, this is Lorne. Hold your fire until you get orders from me to the contrary or you have to defend yourself, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Miller responded.

"They haven't shot at us yet," Lorne observed, "let's see what they want before we act." Once again he glanced at Ronon, who gave him a plainly skeptical look. "Yeah, I know," Lorne admitted, "long shot."

-----------------------

Carson knelt next to John, his nine mil cocked and ready. He glanced at Rodney who crouched on the opposite side of Sheppard, before looking around at the backs of fifteen Marines who encircled the injured colonel.

"Car-son," Sheppard stuttered.

"Easy, Colonel," Carson flashed a small but reassuring smile at John. "Lorne will handle it."

"Wh-at... the hell... is go-ing... on?" John managed to stammer around his chattering teeth and pain.

"Colonel, just relax..." Carson started.

"Car-son..." John interrupted the doctors placating statement.

"Natives," Rodney interrupted, "the same ones that tried to kill Teyla and me."

"Give me... your gun," John shifted weakly in his stretcher and pushed one arm out from under the blanket.

"You've got to be kidding!" Rodney snapped, "I wouldn't give you an empty water gun right now!"

"Rodney's right," Carson reasoned, "you're in no condition physically or mentally to help, especially with that IV." Carson squeezed John's shoulder. "I know you don't like to be helpless, lad, but right now you're going to have to accept it. Lorne, Teyla, Ronon, Lieutenant Coffey and fifteen Marines are surrounding you, plus ten more Marines at the Gate. Let them handle it." Carson stared intently into John's eyes.

After a moment, John nodded slightly. "D-on't... like it."

"I know," Carson's smile was small. He shook his head slightly as John's eyelids fluttered and closed. His smile faded. The colonel's condition was still grave, in spite of his willpower and strength. Carson glanced at Lorne's back. "Major, this delay isn't helping the colonel any."

"I know, Doc," Lorne responded. "Tell that to the natives."

"Aye," Carson sighed.

---------------------------

A familiar whining next to him caught Lorne's attention. He glanced at Ronon as the Satedan powered his gun from stun to kill. "Ronon?"

"I've had enough of these guys," Ronon's voice was nearly a growl.

"If we can get out of this without a firefight, that'd be better," Lorne frowned. "I mean it. Hold your fire." He hardened his gaze as Ronon stared down at him. "Besides," Lorne continued, "we have the colonel's safety to consider. It's a bit hard to carry him and shoot at the same time." Ronon's nod gave Lorne some reassurance, but the Major noted how the ex-runner didn't power down his weapon. He returned his attention to the approaching natives, his gaze fixing on a dark haired one in the lead. He turned his head slightly as Teyla walked up beside him.

"That is their leader, Taruk," Teyla supplied without lowering her weapon.

"Major?" Elizabeth's voice came over the radio, "what's the delay?"

Lorne carefully reached up and tapped his radio. "Ma'am, we've encountered a large group of natives. Will advise when we know more. Lorne out." He watched the approaching leader. Taruk was unarmed, but for all intents and purposes, far from relaxed. His face was a stoic mask of cold control and his body was tense. Lorne glanced around at the surrounding natives, half of whom pointed bows, crossbows and spears at Miller and the men guarding the gate, while half did the same to Lorne and his group. Lorne's gaze returned to Taruk as the man stopped about twenty feet from him.

"You will not be allowed to leave," Taruk stated simply.

Lorne sighed. "Look. We don't want to fight you. If you don't want us around, we won't come back. Just let us go and we'll leave you alone, I promise."

Taruk's laugh was harsh. "You promise? I do not believe your words. Not when your people betrayed mine." He took a step closer. "Not when your people killed mine!"

From the corner of his eye, Lorne saw Ronon stiffen. "Not yet," he muttered. Lorne looked around for a minute, before slowly lowering his P-90. He lifted his right hand in a placating gesture. "I don't know who hurt your people and betrayed you, but it wasn't us. You have to believe me, we've never been here before."

"I have no reason to believe you." Taruk's voice held a note of finality and Lorne felt his hand unconsciously tighten on his P-90. His mind raced. "Look around you, Taruk. We could've opened fire and killed all of you without a second thought." Lorne hardened his gaze. "And we'd have every right, since you already killed four of our men." He held Taruk's gaze for a long moment. "But, we didn't."

Taruk seemed to genuinely consider Lorne's words but remained silent.

"When we escaped from you," Teyla spoke softly. "I could've killed many of your people, but I did not... even though your people were trying to kill me." She glanced pointedly at her wounded arm.

Another native stepped up next to the leader. "Taruk, maybe they speak the truth."

Taruk waved the man off before fixing Lorne with a penetrating stare. "How can I be sure?"

Lorne arched a brow. "Well, we haven't opened fire yet... and if you let us go, we won't. I promise."

The anger drained from Taruk's face, only to be replaced with a proud strength that reminded Lorne of Teyla's people. "There is truth to what you say." He waved his hand at his people who slowly lowered their weapons. "It is a far greater crime to execute the innocent, then to let the betrayer escape." Taruk turned back to Lorne. "I do not know why, but I believe your words. Go... and do not prove me wrong."

Lorne nodded once and glanced at his men. "Lower your weapons." He gave Taruk a last, long look, before leading his men to the gate.

---------------------------------

As soon as he set foot in the Atlantis gate room, Carson wasted no time furthering Colonel Sheppard's treatment. He waved the waiting gurney over. "Leave him in the basket stretcher for now, but move him gently. Get another warm IV started and get a warmed blanket on him." Carson snagged the stethoscope from around one of his medic's necks, put it on, pulled back the blanket and listened to John's chest. He looked up, catching glance of Ronon backing away. "Ronon! You're not going anywhere but the infirmary, lad." Carson glanced at Lorne. "See that he gets there, no exceptions." His gaze touched briefly on McKay and Teyla as well. "That goes for the both of you, too."

"Carson?"

Carson turned and gave Elizabeth a grim smile. "He's stabilized for now. I'll know more in a while." He sighed at her silent nod. "We'll do our best, Elizabeth."

She smiled slightly. "I know."

Carson stepped away from Sheppard's stretcher. "All right, let's get him to the infirmary, quickly but gently." He walked easily alongside the gurney. "When we get there, I want him on a cardiac monitor, complete lab work including arterial gasses, a full skull and chest series of x-rays and get his core temperature." Carson glanced up, noting Ronon walking close behind, Coffey right behind him. "I want a full chest and skull series on Ronon as well." Carson glanced at Dr. Biro. "And give him a complete examination. Teyla and Rodney too."

-------------------------------------

Elizabeth quickly made her way down the long hallway towards the infirmary. In the last hour, she'd been thoroughly debriefed by Lorne's team although it had been a struggle for her to concentrate. Ending the debriefing she had made a beeline across the control deck for the back stairs her sole purpose being to get to the infirmary as quickly as possible. But, as she walked through the doorway and caught sight of John, her step faltered. Unconscious, he looked so fragile that she had a hard time believing this was Atlantis' robust military commander lying in a bed before her. _God, John…_

Elizabeth inhaled deeply and stepped fully through the door, allowing it to close behind her. Her gaze found Ronon, Teyla and Rodney, all sitting not far from John's bed. Slowly she crossed the infirmary towards them.

She found a small smile as Carson met her half ways. She stopped and faced him. "Carson?"

"He's better." Carson immediately replied. "We managed to stabilize his body temperature and properly set his bones. Beyond the hypothermia, fractured femur, and radius/ulna fracture, he has a couple broken ribs and a concussion." Carson shook his head. "He made quite a mess of himself this time. I was worried about compromised blood flow to his lower leg as a result of the fracture and delay in setting it, but there doesn't seem to be any complications from that. We'll watch him closely though."

Elizabeth nodded, her gaze never leaving John. "He's going to be out of commission for some time," she observed absently.

"Aye," Carson agreed. "The femur will take the longest. He's in for a lot of physical therapy and rehab. Even after he's able to walk again, he'll need more rehab to return to service. It'll be six months at the earliest before I'd consider putting him on active duty again."

"The others?" Elizabeth asked quietly.

"Ronon has three broken ribs and some bumps and bruises, but otherwise okay. Teyla was grazed on the arm by a crossbow bolt but its superficial and she's fine. Rodney? He came through without a scratch, although to hear him talk about it, you'd never guess."

Elizabeth nodded. "Good." She pulled her eyes from John and smiled slightly at Carson. "Lorne told me what you did for John, Carson. Well done." She held her smile as Carson blushed slightly.

"Bloody insane of me to go into that hole in the first place, but the Colonel needed help. I guess my sense of duty to my patient outweighs my own survival instincts." His smile deepened into a dimpled grin.

Elizabeth's hand brushed over his forearm. "Still, well done." She turned away and walked up to John's bed. Taking a moment, she glanced at Teyla, Rodney and Ronon, giving each of them a smile before looking down at John just in time to see his eyelids flutter. "John?" She asked quietly. Behind her she heard scuffling as Teyla, Ronon and Rodney stood and walked up on the other side of the colonel's bed.

Slowly, John's eyes opened and he found her warm gaze. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey, yourself," Elizabeth said quietly. "You know, you do keep things interesting around here."

A faint hint of a smile pulled at John's mouth. "My job," he muttered.

"Well, you can do it a little less often if you'd like," Elizabeth gently teased.

The hint of a smile on John's face grew stronger. "Well, it'll be a while… before I do it… again," he managed.

Elizabeth smiled gently as she carefully grabbed his hand. Her brows furrowed as his grip tightened on hers and he groaned. Her smile faded. "John?" She looked back at his face and worry tightened her gut at his grimace.

"Hurts…" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Carson," Teyla called.

"What? What hurts?" Elizabeth held tightly to his hand.

"Chest…" John wheezed, sweat popping up on his brow, "can't… breathe…" above his head the cardiac monitor started beeping loudly.

"Carson!" Elizabeth turned as Carson, flanked by two nurses, jogged up to the bed.

He stepped around Elizabeth and stared for a moment at the rapidly beeping cardiac monitor before looking down at John. "Colonel, where's your pain?" He asked urgently.

"Ch… chest… arm…" John gasped, tension gripping his body, "can't… breathe…"

Carson reached over the bed and snagged an oxygen mask. "Damn it," he muttered as he fit it over John's face and adjusted the flow. He looked at one of the nurses. "Carolyn, Altapase fifteen milligram IV bolus stat. Follow it with Enoxaparin 80 mg SC." Carson quickly placed his stethoscope in his ears and listened to John's chest. "Rales. I'll bet my best bottle of Scotch whiskey it's a PE." Carson glanced at John's face as he grimaced and groaned loudly. "Take it easy, Colonel, we're working on it."

"A… PE?" Teyla questioned.

"Pulmonary embolism," Rodney supplied, "blood clot in the lungs." Carson glanced at Elizabeth. "You all need to step back and let us work." He looked back down at John's face. "Colonel? Colonel! You need to stay awake. Colonel!"

Elizabeth set John's limp hand down and backed away, before turning and walking across the infirmary. She joined Teyla, Ronon and Rodney as they all watched Carson's team work.

"Come on, John," Elizabeth whispered.

"It's serious?" Ronon asked quietly.

"Yes," Rodney's voice broke slightly. "In a lot of cases," he continued quietly, "PE's are fatal."

----------------------------------------


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks to everyone for the reviews and support on this story! You all have been great! This was my first venture back into the world of whumping in over three years. Originally, I cut my teeth writing whump (and medicine) but it's been a long time since I've revisited either. This story was sort of a way for me to get my feet wet in whump again, before attempting a more ambitious (and darker) story. Juggling other fic projects at the moment, but I'll get to it and I hope you like it. Now, where was I? …_

Elizabeth lost count of how many times her pacing had led her across the infirmary, but that realization did nothing to stop her from crossing it again. Carson had long since pulled the privacy screen around John's bed but Elizabeth found comfort in the constant and now slower beeping of the cardiac monitor that still found her ears. But, still, Carson hadn't emerged from behind the curtain… hadn't come out and said John was fine.

Elizabeth sighed. Right now, she needed that more than anything. If there was one thing she'd come to realize in the two years she'd led the expedition, was that she honestly doubted if she'd been able to do it without his support. A small smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. Not that John wouldn't be the first one to say she was wrong, but deep down, Elizabeth knew how much John's quiet strength bolstered her. They didn't always agree, but somehow, Elizabeth believed, if they always agreed, things wouldn't necessarily be better. Sometimes, John forced her to defend her beliefs, and thus find strength and conviction in them, and Elizabeth liked to think she did the same for him.

Her pacing led her close to where Ronon, Rodney and Teyla sat quietly. She flashed a grim smile at Rodney, who made eye contact first. Her gaze traveled to Teyla, then Ronon as unspoken words passed between them. John meant a lot to all of them each in their own way. From being one of the rare, few people that understood and tolerated Rodney, to being a kindred spirit Teyla and Ronon, John touched each of their lives, much in the same way he touched Elizabeth's.

She found her confidence and pushed it out through her expression, before turning and once again starting a slow path across the infirmary. She only made it half way, as the privacy curtain rolled back and Carson emerged. "Carson?" As Elizabeth walked towards him she heard the shuffle of feet as the other three joined her. She felt hope well within her as Carson smiled and nodded.

"He's going to be okay. It was touch and go for a while there, but I think he's going to pull through. We'll keep close watch on him, and keep him on heparin therapy for a while yet, but I think the worst is over."

"Thank God," Rodney muttered. He looked around as the others gave him understanding but mildly surprised looks. "What? I've barely got him trained enough to keep up with me. Do you realize what I'd have to go through to break in another Colonel?"

Elizabeth's smile was half in response to Rodney and half in response to the relief that washed over her. She laid a gentle hand on Carson's forearm. "That's good news." Her grip tightened slightly. "Thank you, Carson."

Carson's smile deepened slightly. "Aye, you're welcome. I've grown rather fond of the Colonel myself. A little too fond to have him up and check out so soon." Carson glanced back at the drawn curtain. "He's awake, albeit a little groggy. You all can visit him if you want, but it'll have to be brief. I doubt he'll stay awake long anyway, he's pretty drugged."

Elizabeth nodded silently and stepped around Carson. Gently, she pushed back the curtain and walked up to John's bed. She glanced up briefly as Ronon, Teyla and Rodney approached the other side of the bed, before she looked down and smiled softly. "John?"

Under the oxygen mask, John's face was pale and drawn, but the gaze that finally emerged from under his fluttering eyelids was strong. "Elizabeth." His head turned slightly as he looked at the other three. "Guys," he said quietly.

"Colonel," Teyla spoke softly. "You are going to be fine."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed, "Carson's too stubborn to let you go just yet."

"McKay." Ronon rumbled.

"What?" Rodney glared at Ronon. "Oh, fine."

Elizabeth smiled as Rodney crossed his arms and flashed each of them a sour look before giving John the briefest of smiles. She refocused her attention on John. "I thought you said it would be a while before you insisted on making things interesting around here again," she quipped lightly.

"Gotta keep you… on your toes," John's voice was slightly slurred from the drugs, but he managed a small smile.

"You don't have to, you know," Elizabeth muttered.

"We do have better things to be doing then making you the center of our collective lives," Rodney added.

John's smile deepened as his head slowly turned towards Rodney. "I don't see you… tied to my bunk… McKay," he muttered.

"Yes, well," Rodney fidgeted and looked away for a moment before looking back at John his expression bland. "It's not like I could leave with you deciding to go all melodramatic on us and throw a PE. You're a real pain in the ass sometimes, you know that?" He added.

"Rodney!" Elizabeth's protest followed on the heels of Teyla poking Rodney in the arm.

"What?" Rodney protested, "he'd think there was something really wrong if I didn't treat him like that!"

"It takes a pain in the ass… to know one," John muttered, still holding a slight smile.

"Right," Rodney immediately agreed. His brow furrowed. "Wait…"

"Rodney," Elizabeth cut him off as she watched John's eyelids flutter. "Drop it." She reached own and gently squeezed John's hand. "Get some sleep, Colonel." She watched as his breathing turned slow and even and his eyes stayed shut. She slowly let go of his hand and backed away from his bed.

--------------------------------------

_**Epilogue:**_

John curbed the irritation in him as he once more leaned on his cane and slowly made his way down the hallway leading to the back stairs to the control room. For some reason the thought of using a cane just grated on him. Given a choice he'd left the damn thing in his quarters, but his pride was tempered by the thought of running into Carson without having the blasted thing with him. John winced slightly. Carson would have him tied to the bed for the next two weeks, or sic a babysitting security detail on him if he was caught without the twice-damned thing, so John reluctantly carried it with him, and since he had it, he decided to make use of it. Somewhere, under his pride and stubbornness, John realized the cane really did help him get around better, but he was damned if he was going to admit that to anyone, least of all, Carson.

"Colonel!"

John stopped and turned, waiting as Rodney sped up his walk and joined him. "McKay."

Rodney's eyes settled on the cane. "Huh, never thought Carson would get you using one of those," he observed.

John frowned as he resumed his trek towards the control deck. "I wouldn't, if I didn't think Carson would find some sort of suitable punishment if he caught me without it."

Rodney snorted. "Big, bad Colonel Sheppard cowed by the gentle, Scottish doctor."

"Gentle, hell," John retorted. "He's got a legitimate mean streak if you cross him." John glanced sideways at Rodney. "You outta know, he confined you to the infirmary for three days the last time you tried to leave early."

"Don't remind me." Rodney winced. He inhaled deeply. "Well, hobble on, Colonel. I have things to do." Rodney turned off at the next intersection and left John walking alone.

John's climb up the stairs to the control deck was more painful than he would've ever admitted, but he stubbornly pushed on, knowing the pain in his muscles was the trade off for getting better. He knew his limits, and was careful to stay within them… most of the time, but he also knew his limits wouldn't expand unless he pushed on them a little. _Just won't tell Carson…_ he smiled to himself. He crossed the narrow walkway to Elizabeth's office, stopped just outside the door and watched her for a moment. Immersed in her work, she hadn't noticed him, and probably wouldn't for at least a few minutes. He chuckled quietly before clearing his throat. John held his smile as she looked up, and found a smile of her own.

"John," she pushed back from her desk. "It's good to see you up and about."

John slowly walked into her office. "Feels good." He slowly sat down in the chair opposite her and hung his cane on her desk. He leaned back in the chair and absently rested his hands on his thighs as she folded hers on her desk.

"How are you doing?"

"Bored," he replied, blandly. "Carson still has a limit on what I can do physically. Can't even spar with Teyla yet." He arched a brow slightly as her expression turned bemused.

"You didn't expect to recover overnight, did you?"

"No," John pouted slightly before brightening. "How about letting me fly that group of scientists to the mainland tomorrow?" His voice was slightly pleading, and he gauged his expression to match it. He held her gaze even when her eyes narrowed in what John had nicknamed her "Den Mother" expression.

"Only if Carson gives his okay."

John sighed. "Okay. I'll talk to him."

Elizabeth smiled apologetically. "As much as I'd like to chat with you all afternoon…" she waved her hand at the paperwork that cluttered her desk around her laptop.

John grabbed his cane and stood. "Right." He headed for the door, only to be stopped by her voice.

"John?"

He turned back and smiled in response to her smile.

"It really is good to have you around again."

He nodded once and turned away. As John left her office and started back across the narrow walkway to the control deck, the dimly lit Stargate grabbed his attention. He stopped and rested his hands on the railing as he started at the Ancient device. Romantically, he recognized the beauty of its design. He knew he was biased, but he really thought it was much prettier than it's counterpart at the SGC. John shifted his weight, nodding at the dull ache in his leg, reminding him of the unknown and unexpected they risked encountering every time they stepped through the gate. It'd be a while yet, before he'd be allowed to go through the Stargate again. John smiled. But, he couldn't wait for that day. Grabbing his cane, he slowly made his way across the control deck towards the back stairs. He had a physical therapy appointment in fifteen minutes, and he'd be damned if he was going to be late.

**_-end-_**


End file.
